Short story of my journey of body dysmorphia, how it started, where it all began, how cruel sharp words contributed to my developing BDD in my teenage years, to manage it to this day. From early childhood childish daydreams of transforming into a Brooke Shields lookalike to its more serious impacts on my feelings of appearance and in turn self worth and self confidence.
This story is not without humour, as the writer I am able to look back with out anger, to not hold onto feelings of self pity; something I view as a tragedy if I ever let self pity win this battle.
From the time I had dog shit kicked at me, with the best Steven Gerrard esque kick, to when I was told ” your body is not as good as it used to be” just two weeks after giving birth to my first child, you may feel to weep, but I promise you’ll also laugh.
I story tell with graphic detail, not holding back from opening my soul nor afraid to feel judged for a disorder I believe makes one fairly self absorbed; it’s taken me a long time to tell this tale.
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